Love's Fool
by Quicksilver19
Summary: I know it's been done before but here goes... Hermione likes Ron but Ron likes Pavarti... Oliver likes Hermione and maybe she'll start liking him back...
1. Chapter 1

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, leaning on the bookshelf. Why did Ron have to love Pavarti? Why did he have to lead me on and on? I closed my eyes, refusing to cry. I had liked him so much. Maybe even loved him. I gritted my teeth. Forget him. Just forget him. I kept moving, grabbing random books and buried my head behind a stack of fifteen books tall. I chose a table in the corner and plunked the books down. Opening one, I tried to read, tried to concentrate, but all I could hear was the giggling and laughter of Ron and Pavarti as they rolled around on her bed. I remembered walking in on them two days ago.  
  
§ § §  
  
I practically skipped down the hallway. Today, I'd seen Ron and he'd given me a special grin. I knew that it didn't sound like much at all but it was a different grin than he'd ever had on his face before. I sighed. Ron Weasley was the most amazing man in the world. I'd made my decision. I was going to find him tonight and tell him. I'd waited long enough. Time to step up, girl.  
  
Pushing open the door to my dorm, I stopped dead. It felt like someone had stabbed me through the heart with an icicle and now it was sitting there in my chest, weighing me down and slowly melting into my bloodstream, turning my entire body slowly to ice. I froze and found I couldn't tear my eyes from the scene in front of me.  
Ron and Pavarti were lying on her bed, kissing each other, hands tangled in each others' hair, running over each others' bodies. They stopped and started whispering to each other and giggling. Slowly, I backed out, feeling sick. All I wanted to do was throw up, scream, hit them, anything. Instead I ran to my haven, the library.  
  
§ § §  
  
A soft Scottish brogue broke into my thoughts, "You know, in order to read, the book has to be right side up, Hermione."  
I glanced up. Oliver Wood was standing, blocking my view of the lovebirds sitting together and 'studying.' "What?"  
He reached over and picked the book out of my hands, turning it over. "Breeding habits of flobberworms? I knew that you loved studying but this is ridiculous." He plopped himself down at the table and glanced at the other pile of books. " Love your Weedkiss and it'll love you back. Kicking with Knuds.You've got quite the selection here." he said, raising an eyebrow.  
I shrugged. "Yeah, well, you know me. bookworm to the core," I replied glumly.  
He shook his head, staring at me intently. "Are you alright, Hermoine?"  
I rearranged my face to be blank. "What do you mean? I'm fine."  
"I think you've got more going on inside here-" he touched my temple gently "-than you let on. Anything you want to talk about?"  
"Not really, no," I replied without feeling. Even though Oliver was one of the most good-looking boys in our school I really didn't want him sitting down with me at the moment to have a heart to heart. Right now I just wanted to be left alone. "I'm fine, Oliver, really," I repeated.  
He studied me intently for a moment then leaned towards me and for a second I had a crazy idea that he was going to kiss me.  
And then he did.  
Okay, maybe it wasn't such a crazy idea. His lips were soft and made me forget everything about Ron and what's-her-face. Then he pulled away and smiled softly. "For the time you saved our hides at that Quidditch match." With a final grin, he left the library.  
I sat, staring stupidly off after him, all thoughts of Ron flying from my head. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Ron! Guess who I just saw in the library?" Neville almost fell over himself running into the common room.  
"Hermione?" Ron replied, a bored expression on his face. He was waiting for Pavarti to get back from class and he wasn't a very patient guy.  
"Yeah, and she was being snogged by Oliver."  
"What?!" He shot up from him chair, his face turning red. "Hermoine?"  
"Yup."  
"And Oliver."  
"Yup."  
"Hermoine kissing Oliver."  
Neville shook his head, feeling a bit giddy. Hermoine had always been nice to him. She'd always helped him out and he knew about Ron being a bit of, well, a lot of an ass to her lately so it felt a bit good to have revenge. "No, Oliver kissing Hermoine."  
"What?!" Ron's face went purple.  
"Yup. Just thought you should know." He moved quickly up to his dorm so's not to catch the brunt Ron's anger.  
  
"Hermione's really picked up in her moods lately." Harry observed as he and Ron came down to breakfast in the Great Hall. "She hasn't snapped on either of us for not doing our homework and she even let me copy her transfiguration work. she's acting very odd."  
Ron grunted in response. All he could think about was Oliver kissing Hermione. Not that he wanted Hermione - he had Pavarti - but her being with Oliver? "I mean, come on!" he exclaimed aloud.  
"Come on what, Ron?" Harry replied.  
"Nothing," snapped the redhead, slouching down in his seat. "I'm just worried about exams, that's all."  
Harry shook his head. First Hermione now Ron. what was going on?  
  
I moved dreamily down to breakfast, my face glowing. Over the past week, Oliver had found me in the library at the same table and always found a reason to kiss me, each one getting more ridiculous than the last,  
"I had a good night; I wanted a good night kiss."  
"Didn't have any female company. afraid I'm turning gay."  
"My male hormones are on overdrive, I needed to release some."  
He would get help on something that I knew he knew just so he could spend time with me then give me a kiss for thanks. I had a suspicion that he knew something was up but I could never really tell.  
And this morning he'd grabbed me coming out of the portrait hole and kissed me thoroughly before practically skipping off to class, saying something about my looking like I should be kissed and he'd be damned if someone else beat him to it.  
I came up to the Gryffindor table all smiles. "Good morning boys." I sat down across from Harry and started on my porridge.  
Pavarti sat down across from Ron and I could tell she was trying to catch his eye but he was staring moodily into his bowl and didn't notice.  
I mentally shrugged and resumed eating. I found I didn't really care for Ron anymore - his attitude stunk frankly and I was better than that. Plus, I had a hunky Quidditch Keeper hanging around. I wondered how he would feel if I call him my 'Hunky Quidditch Keeper.' I grinned. He'd hate it but secretly love it. And then I wondered why on earth someone like Oliver Wood would ever think of hanging out with someone like me. it wasn't the first time. I didn't flatter myself with the thought that I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. I suppose it must be some kind of joke or bet or personal vendetta that he was carrying out and soon I would never see him again.  
"Hermione? HELLO?" Harry was waving his hand in front of my face.  
My head shot up. "Huh? What? Sorry."  
"I asked what class you had first." Harry replied.  
"Oh, sorry." I wracked my brain. "Advanced Transfiguration."  
He nodded. "What's wrong with you lately? You're all spacey."  
I shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just in a good mood. aren't I allowed to be in a good mood?" I knew I sounded defensive but I couldn't help it. Wasn't I deserved of a good mood? Suddenly, I was feeling claustrophobic around them, as if they were smothering me.  
"Of course you are." Harry replied quickly. "It just seems odd that you're in a good mood since-" He glanced quickly at Ron.  
"Since when?" I asked flippantly. Inside I froze. What if they knew about Oliver? Then I stopped. Wait a minute. Who cares if they knew? It wasn't like I was going out with either of them and cheating on them.  
"Since. well, uh. since you stopped hanging out with us." He blinked. "I mean, I haven't seen you since last week. you're spending all your time in the library. not that that's not normal for you." He froze. "Well, what I mean is." He sighed. "I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't mean it like that."  
I waved him off. "That's okay, Harry. I've just been busy, you know? A lot of work to do." I said breezily, getting up and grabbing my things. "See you two later." I started out of the Great Hall in a cloud of happiness and slight confusion. Oliver liked me. He must. Otherwise he wouldn't do all that stuff and bother with me. Unless my earlier theory was right and he was just going to drop me. Maybe that was it. well, I would show him. I lifted my chin. No way I, Hermione Granger, would be taken in by a beautiful Quidditch Captain who was just out to get some from me. It would have to stop. Tonight. 


	3. Chapter 3

Note: Oh, yes, and this is allllllllll AU… Their ages are all wonky so it's not so messed up and wrong for them to be together… say, I dunno… Hermione and Harry and all them are one or two years younger than Oliver and his crew… well, enjoy… and please review! 

I watched the Qudditch team practice. The days were getting longer as summer approached and so Oliver had the team practicing longer as well. "Have to keep ahead of the competition," he'd say, dead serious as the team burst into giggles behind his back. 

It was about nine o'clock and they were winding down, zooming towards the ground. The Weasley twins were playing chicken against each other and Harry had already gone in – I knew he had to study because we had a test the next day in Advanced Transfiguration and he'd left it to the last minute – of course. I sat patiently in the stands as they landed and started towards the dressing room. I watched Oliver walk after the others, throwing a wink my way and momentarily melting me into a puddle before I steeled myself. There was no way that I could let him take down my defenses. We had to talk about this. This had to be serious, too the point, and productive. Impersonal, if you would. No room for going goggly-eyed as a first-year at the sight of him. 

            I waited for him to come back out – he was the last – his hair wet and spiky, his eyes dancing with left-over exhilaration from his favourite thing in the world, Quidditch. He moved with the grace and beauty of one who was in athletics his whole life. He spotted me getting up from the stands and started towards me, his grin growing. "Hermione… what brings you by the Quidditch pitch this time of night?" he drawled, his eyes dancing because he already knew, or thought he knew. 

            I stood straight and faced him. "Oliver-" 

Interrupted by his soft lips and hands sliding around my waist, his gear dropping to the ground.

I melted into him, kissing back, willing myself to believe he wasn't doing this for a bet or as a dare or something of the sort. The little voice in the back of my head yelled shrilly, "Regroup! Regroup!" and I stepped back away from him. "Oliver, we need to talk." 

He blinked, stunned. "About what?" 

I laughed. "About what? About this, Oliver… you can't just keep doing this to me without explanation!" 

"Can't a guy kiss the girl he likes?" 

            I looked at him squarely. "Is that what this is?" 

            He stared straight back at me. "Of course… what did you think, that I had a bet going with my friends? 'Whoever bags Hermione first gets such and such a sum of gold?' Come on Hermione… I hope you think better of me than that…" He reached out to me and raised his eyebrows. 

            I looked into his eyes and hesitated. It wasn't that I didn't believe him but at the same time… what if it was just a line? What if it was what he used on every girl he got with? I wanted to believe him. So badly. But still… 

            His eyes flashed hurt and he threw up his hands. "What would you have me do, Hermione? What would convince you that it was for real?" 

            "I-I don't know…" I replied, startled. 

            He grabbed my arm. "Here, let's go…" And started to drag me across the pitch. 

            "Wha- Oliver, stop it… what are you doing? Where are we going?"

            "The Great Hall…" he replied. 

            "Wha-?"

            "I'm going to tell everyone… if that's what it takes…" 

            I shook my head. "Oliver… that's not going to fix this…" 

            He stopped and threw up his hands. "Well, what do you want from me then?! What would it take? Why can't you just trust me?"

            I stumbled back a few paces. "I don't know…" I replied in a small voice.

            He frowned. "Well, when you do, let me know…" Stomping back to the stands, he grabbed his gear and stormed off. 

            I waited until he was out of sight before sitting down and bursting into tears. It wasn't fair! It wasn't supposed to end like this… he was supposed to tell me that he was madly in love with me (which he kinda did) and then we'd kiss and… well, I don't know what would happen after that but really…  come on…

I felt raindrops on her arm and looked up at the clouds. "Pathetic fallacy at its best…" 

¤                                  ¤                                  ¤

            "Oliver looked so stormy this morning… wonder what happened?" 

            "He's just anxious about the next match…"

            "He still looks awfully cute when he frowns…"

            Everywhere. It was everywhere. 

            I couldn't get away from it. Everyone was talking about Oliver and his angry moods. At breakfast, in Advanced Transfiguration, in the halls, in the common room, in the girls dorm… come to think of it, it was always girls… I sighed. Maybe he was a player and I was better off without him anyway. 

            Except, when I saw him, I still felt that pang. Like, I'd been punched in the stomach.

            I avoided the library and the memories that swelled up. I spent most of my time outside, down by the lake, as far from the Quidditch Pitch as possible. But I always found my gaze drifting towards it… 

            In the halls I've caught him looking at me… well, I think I did anyway. I know that I sent one too many wistful looks his way, then bit my lip and hurried on. 

            I'd really messed things up this time… I really had…


	4. Chapter 4

I threw my books onto my bed and fell face-first onto my pillow, pounding the comforter. Why did it have to be so hard? I mean, this is what happened in the movies! We were angry at each other for something stupid and then one would come apologize and then we'd live happily ever after… except, this wasn't the movies… and I wasn't magically matured after we 'broke up' and the same problems would be waiting for us if we started it up again…

I wanted to cry. This wasn't the way that it was supposed to happen! I was supposed to be happy! It was supposed to work! I'd been let down so many times that I was becoming cynical and bitter… It was my fault that Oliver was angry with me.

I straightened up. Fine. If Oliver wanted a more mature, relationship-ready Hermione, he'd get one… starting now… I did want to trust him… I would have to show him that I did… but how? I think it was time to bring in an expert…

₤ ₤ ₤

"So, I figured I needed your help tonight with my, ah, Potions work…" I stared hard at Harry, willing him not to say something stupid and just believe me that we needed to talk without having to say in front of Ron that we needed to talk.

"You have top marks in Potions though, Hermione..." Ron started.

"Yes, the work was hard this week," Harry countered. "That thing that you wanted help with, right? We can do it tonight…"

"Good. Well, I'm off to the library!" I bolted before Ron asked any more questions.

Harry found me later, thumping his books down and sitting across from me. "What's going on, Hermione?"

I opened my mouth to speak but then found I didn't know where to start. Did he know about Oliver? Or my crush on Ron before that? How much should I tell him? Would it ruin our friendship if I did? I looked down at my transfiguration homework, searching for an answer.

"Listen, I know about Oliver. I was the one who pushed him to ask you out."

My eyes snapped up from the book. "Oliver never asked me out."

He waved his hands. "Well, whatever it was that he did that pushed you two to whatever you are now. Doesn't matter. He likes you Hermione. And he'll treat you better than Ron ever will… yes," he added, noticing my shocked look, "I know about Ron. What you have to decide is what you want?"

I looked over at him quickly then down at my parchment where I started copying notes. "It's so easy for you, Harry, isn't it? Everything is black and white… you know when people like you, don't you? You've dealt with it all your life. How do you know if someone likes you for you and not just the image that is put forth about you? I mean, I'm nothing but Hermione Granger, bookworm… and he's Oliver Wood, Quidditch Captain."

He shook his head. "See, that's where the problem is, Mione… you're so bent on not being the bookworm, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe he doesn't want to be 'Oliver Wood, Quidditch Captain' either? Maybe you've thought of him as that for so long that you can't see past it and that creates the problem that you're in now…"

I stopped writing. "Oh my god."

₤ ₤ ₤

I splashed across the pitch in the rain, heedless of the yells of the Weasley twins and the whizzing of the bludgers. "Oliver! Oliver! I understand now!"

He stared down at my as if I'd gone mad, shaking the water from his eyes. "Hermione, get off the pitch! You're going to get yourself hurt! This isn't the time!"

"Look out!"

A bludger zoomed towards me and I screamed but was knocked down before it made contact with my head.

It zoomed past inches above me, ruffling my quickly soaking hair.

Oliver got up from his protective position above me, pulling me to my feet, and shook me, yelling over the roar of the storm, "Are you crazy, Hermione?! You could have been killed! You could have been seriously injured! What would be so important that it couldn't wait a few hours?!"

I stared at him, standing in full Quidditch gear, his face flushed, his eyes flashing, and I just wanted to throw myself into his arms like a typical damsel. He looked so grand and cut a dashing Quidditch Captain figure. But I restrained myself. I had to think past that, had to think of him as more than what the other girls thought of him. "Because I understand it now!" I yelled back. "All this time I spent thinking of you as just a Quidditch captain and now I know that's not true! I-"

He cut me off, "Right now that's all I am and if my team is going to beat Slytherin tomorrow, we still have to practice for two hours. Can we talk about this later?!"

I almost laughed. He knew exactly what I was going to tell him, or at least the outline of it and all he could think about was Quidditch – stereotyping him right back into the position. "Fine!"

"Our place in the library at nine then?!"

"Sure!"

"Fine! Now get off the pitch!" He was still yelling but he flashed me a grin before turning back around to the team, who had gathered around behind him on their brooms. "Now you sods, get back up there! We're nowhere near being perfect! C'mon! What are you sitting around for?"

₤ ₤ ₤

I sat impatiently, glancing at the clock every few seconds. I had my homework spread out in front of me but there was no way I could concentrate on it. Five minutes to nine… four minutes forty-five seconds to nine… four minutes thirty seconds to nine… four minutes twenty seconds to nine… four-

"Hermione?"

I looked over to him standing over me, and blushed. Well, that must have looked rather desperate…

He sent me a crooked grin. "Something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Suddenly the courage that had propelled me across the pitch was gone, flying from me as quickly as a released Snitch. Oh my god, now _I _was starting to think of everything in terms of Quidditch. I looked at him looking expectantly at me and then glanced down at my book. "Um…"

"Don't get shy on my now, Granger…"

And so the words started to tumble out. "I understand now why you were so angry because I thought of you just as a popular boy and the Quidditch captain and didn't think you had those feelings inside you that I did… not that I thought you didn't have any feelings but I thought it was a joke or something… because I didn't think that someone like you would like someone like me and then when I talked to you about it, I kind of went crazy and then it was too late when I found out that you actually –" I took a breath "– did like me then I talked to Harry and I figured it out, well, he figured it out for me but that's not the point… the point is that I understand now. You don't want to be known as the 'Quidditch Captain' just as much as I don't want to be known as the 'bookworm' and you thought that I would understand because I've been stereotyped and then when I didn't and called you a fraud, you got angry, which I understand now but I didn't then…" I took another deep breath and looked him squarely in the eye. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I understand, Oliver," I looked at him before continuing. "And I'll understand if you don't want to be with me because I'm too young or immature or whatever…"

He sat down on the bench beside me. "It was a bit of a punch in the gut when you came out with that crazy theory… and Harry's right, I really hate being known as 'the Quidditch captain' or 'the Quidditch keeper'. I mean, I'm glad that people recognize me for what I am and what I like but it does get quite tiresome…"

I nodded. It sounded odd to have him rant about not wanting to be known as a Quidditch fanatic, which he clearly was… but I understood. He wanted to be more than just that. "So, are we alright now then?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yes. And would you like to accompany me to the next Hogsmeade visit next week?"

"You mean, as a date?" I teased. "In public? With other people seeing us together?"

He nodded again. "Yes, as a date in public with other people watching as I kiss you."

I grinned and leaned towards him. "I accept."

He also leaned forward. "Fantastic."

"You know, I'm going to have to watch my back from now on… the Oliver Wood fanclub isn't going to be too impressed with me…"

His lips were centimeters from mine. "Well, you'll just have to keep out of view. We're going to have to spend a lot of time hiding from them…"

And then I kissed him.

Note: okay, so I need some reviews as to whether or not I should continue this and if so what I should do with it… I mean, I've kind of run out of ideas… so anything would be appreciated… thanks! Ciao!


	5. Chapter 5

I flipped open my Potions text and glanced up at the clock. Oliver should be done practice soon. I heard a commotion at the front of the library and spotted a familiar set of Quidditch robes tear into the fiction section and a horde of girls dash into the library only to be stopped by Madam Pince with a stern look. I sighed. They were already here. That meant-

"Psst, Hermione…"

I looked up just as I was grabbed by the arm and yanked into the 100s section behind me. "Wha-Oliver…" I laughed and he kissed me. "I see your fan club is here…"

He nodded, groaning. "They haven't let up on me all week long. I've had to run from class to class… Rumours flying that I'd found a girlfriend…"

I grinned and went back to my seat and back to my book. "Well, I don't have to hide. They're not looking for me…" I read for a bit longer then sighed. Oliver and I not being able to be seen in public was quite the strain. "Have they gone yet?"

He peered through the books. "No. They're still stationed just inside the door. Close enough to the door to not be mistaken for bookworms but close enough to potentially catch a glimpse of the ultra-hot oh-so-good-looking Quidditch Keeper/Captain…"

I nodded, trying to keep a straight face. "Modest too…"

He turned. "Are you making fun of me, Hermione?"

"No, of course not," I replied demurely, flipping a page in my book. "I was merely adding to your spectacular list of credentials…"

He leaned towards me, sitting down at the table next to me. "Does 'spectacularly beautiful, funny and smart girlfriend' fit in there as well?"

I shrugged, feigning innocence. "Depends on who she is…"

He tickled my side. "You know who she is…"

I giggled. "I think you should refresh my memory…"

He glanced down at my lips. "Maybe I will…"

They curved into a smile. "Maybe you should…"

He kissed me quickly. "Remember anything yet?"

I turned towards him. "No, I think you'll have to try harder than that…"

He smiled. "If that's what it's going to take…" He moved in again, sliding an arm around my waist and pulling me towards him and kissing me long and deep.

My fingers slid up his shoulder and into his hair, pulling him closer.

"Ahem."

We pulled apart quickly, guilty as, well, teenagers.

Ron and Harry stood on the other side of the table. Harry had a stack of books and Ron's mouth was agape.

"Hermione? What are you doing?" he squawked.

Harry gave me a small smile.

I grinned back at him before turning to face Ron. "Hello Ron," I replied weakly. He looked so angry… Then I stopped. I didn't have to diminish my happiness just for him anymore… he had nothing to do with it…

He glared at Oliver. "What are you doing?" he repeated.

"Enjoying some time with my girlfriend…" Oliver replied lightly. "That a problem?" His arm slid around me in what I took as a sign of ownership.

I felt somewhat uncomfortable at this alpha male stuff but at the same time warm and fuzzy inside.

"What if I do?" Ron challenged.

Oliver's eyes flashed. "Well-"

"Oliver! What are you doing with that… that… bookworm!" came a female shriek. All of the Oliver Wood fan club had crowded up behind Harry and Ron after hearing Ron's outburst.

"She's seduced him!" came another shriek.

"She's a fake and a fraud!"

"She's put him under a spell!"

Several threw themselves at me, intent at scratching my eyes out but Harry and Ron stopped them, holding them back.

"Go, Hermione! Go!" Harry yelled.

We both scrambled up from the table and threw ourselves towards the stacks. I paused, turning back.

"Hermione! What are you doing?" Oliver yelled.

"My books! I need my books!"

"Are you mad? A pack of ravenous teenage girls are at your heels and all you can think of are your books?" He laughed, grabbing me around the waist. "Only you, Hermione Granger would think of her books at a time like this… Run!" He shoved me ahead as we left the library and rounded a corner.

"Oliver," I huffed. "We need a different plan because not everyone is as athletic as you…" I was rapidly tiring and, looking behind me, the fan club was not going to let up.

"Okay, okay… plan… a plan…"

I looked around frantically, trying to think of something.

Suddenly, he stopped, grabbing me by the arm and swung us around into an alcove. We stood there, breathing the same air, as rampaging fan club girls sprinted down the hall away from us.

"I think I just saw them turn left!"

"No, right! Right! Go right!"

We laughed and as the sounds of their flight receded, we were left in silence; just the sound of our slowing breaths and the sight of our locked eyes remained. We were silent, watching each other for a few moments before a slow infectious smile grew on his face.

"Hi."

I felt suddenly shy again. "Hello."

"Merlin's beard I want to kiss you right now Hermione…" He clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering to my lips.

Instead of a reply, I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him.

Author's note: okay, I think I'll go for one more chapter and then end it there… :) Enjoy, kiddies! Ciao!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: Alright, well, I'd like to thank grahamcrackers, Red and Gold, Vera-Sabe, slytherinrules85... and everyone else that reviewed my story... you guys rock! And don't miss the author's note at the bottom... thanks! Enjoy!

"So, finished your homework then?" he asked, tossing a quaffle up and catching it over and over while lying on his back.

I snorted. Ever since we'd been discovered by the Oliver Wood Fan Club in the library, it had become a death trap even walking in there. They'd watch me like a hawk, as if Oliver would pop out of the woodwork. And forget us going in together… or anywhere together come to think of it… I felt like Posh and Becks… it was too much attention – much more than I was used to…

So, we were hiding out under the willows by the lake. It was actually a very peaceful and beautiful place to be, I noticed, watching the sun set over the lake. I felt very detached from the world. I hadn't really spoken to anyone lately… I'd been avoiding Ron especially… I just couldn't face a lecture from him.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

I looked over. He had stopped tossing the quaffle and was lying on his side, studying me. A smile grew on my face. "Of course," I replied haughtily. "Haven't you?"

He laughed, grabbing me and rolling so he was above me. "Of course. I think your smarts have rubbed off on me…"

I pushed against him playfully. "It would take a lot of smarts to get you above the I.Q. of a caveman, Mr. Quidditch."

He pretended to be shocked then leaned down to kiss me. "Just because I've taken more bludgers to the head than I can remember doesn't mean it knocked any of my intelligence out…" he replied good-naturedly, then kissed me. He explored my neck and I sighed.

"Oh, Oliver, whatever am I to do without you next year…" I said, half to myself.

It seemed to kill the moment, for he sat up and studied me seriously.

After a few moments, I started to get uncomfortable. I didn't know what to say. Why wasn't he saying anything? Did this mean that… no, wait, we'd been through this before… So why was he so unnaturally still and quiet? "Oliver?" I asked softly.

He blinked. "Sorry, I was trying to figure out my schedule this summer…"

"Schedule?" I asked curiously.

He nodded. "Yes…" he replied distractedly. Then his eyes lit up. "Oh, bloody hell! I forgot to tell you! I've been accepted on Puddlemere United's reserve team!"

I threw myself at him. "Oliver, that's wonderful!" Nothing else really mattered at the moment. I kissed him fiercely. "That's… just… that's…" I was so happy for him that I couldn't form complete sentences. "That's wonderful," I settled on finally.

He hugged me and kissed me back just as fiercely. "Yeah, and so I got the schedule and I think I've figured out when I can come and visit you…" He suddenly became shy. "I mean, if you didn't mind…"

I laughed. "Mind? Of course I don't mind! I'd like to come visit you too…"

He grinned. "That'd be fantastic, Hermione… absolutely fantastic…"

¤ ¤ ¤

I knew the time would come to talk to Ron but I really didn't want to do it and so avoided him at all costs. But you can't avoid someone forever and as much of an ass that Ron was at times, he was still a good friend… or had been… So, when I spotted him in the library, sitting by himself, I had to go over. I stood on the other side of the table and cleared my throat. "Hello Ron," I said quietly.

He didn't even glance up from his parchment. "Hermione…"

I stood there for a few minutes while he promptly ignored me. I knew Ron's moods and the way he acted and how to get them out of it. I'd either have to throw myself into danger (not something I felt like doing at the moment) or confront him. I slammed my books down, creating a loud noise then sat down and hissed at him, "This is all your fault you know!" Madam Pince glared at me but I ignored her. "If you hadn't been with Pavarti then I would not have walked in on you and then I would not have been pushed away by you because you had your 'new girlfriend and the love of you life' and had to fend for myself. If you hadn't stopped talking to me to be with her then I would not have had to hide out the library where Oliver found me." I didn't really blame him… it was just a tactic that I had found works quite well when dealing with Ron… hitting his pride would do the most damage and make him talk to me.

"What?" he exploded, glaring at me. "Hermione! If you had actually paid any attention to me when I liked you then I would not have had to go to Pavarti! I liked you so much over the past few years! You talk about leading people on then ignoring them, what about you and Krum, huh? I liked you so much when you were with him but you were totally with him…"

I stared at him. Alright, a little too much information. "I'm sorry Ron…" I started but he cut me off roughly,

"It's fine. We both have what we want now…" And went back to his work.

I wanted to cry. "No, it's not fine, Ron. Why, if we both have what we want, can we not be friends?"

"Because," he replied, taking a breath. "Because it's hard Hermione. As much as I like being with Pavarti, I still have those feelings for you. You still make me happy when I'm around you… and seeing you with Oliver kills me… partly because I still have those feelings and partly because I've heard about the bloke, Hermione. He's a player…"

I stiffened. "Not with me."

He gave me a knowing look. "Oh, sure, just like Krum wasn't a player? Hermione, he's going to be a bigshot Quidditch player soon with a million fans screaming his name and clawing to get a piece of his jersey… you think the fan club at Hogwarts is bad? This'll be worse… and then it'll go to his head and he's not going to have time for someone like you…"

I stood up, tears stinging my eyes. "You're wrong, Ron… you're just… just wrong… he's not… and I'm sorry that you can't deal with him and me together but whenever you are ready to do that let me know…" I practically ran from the library up to my room.

Author's note: Alright, alright, fine… it's not the end… more chapters to come… you talked me into it… :) Let me know what you think! I know it's a little on the dramatic side but meh… whatever… oh, and any ideas that anyone wants to throw at me, that would be great... Thanks! ciao!


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Alright guys, there you go… let me know what you think! Enjoy!

"So, I guess this is it then?"

            We were standing at the train station, waiting to be picked up. Well, I was waiting to be picked up. Oliver would board a train at platform 7 ½ to go up to train with Puddlemere all summer.

            I didn't have any tears left. I'd spent them all as we boarded the train home from Hogwarts then slept in Oliver's arms for most of it. Now, I was dry-eyed and didn't know what to say.

            He nodded and it looked like he was fighting the urge to throw his arms around me and never let go. "I guess so."

            I stared at him. I had no witty saying, nothing that I could throw out there to lighten the mood. What was I going to do all summer? I had made fun of girls who were obsessed with their boyfriends – the ones that had their whole lives revolve around their boyfriends. But now I was quickly becoming one if I wasn't careful… "So, I won't see you in less than two months?" I asked.

            He nodded. "I guess so."

            "Hermione!"

            I turned and looked. My parents were moving across the platform towards us, waving like mad.

            "Brace yourself…" I joked.

            They swooped down on me and hugged and kissed me to death before turning to Oliver.

            "And you must be Oliver?" my mother asked hesitantly.

            He smiled brilliantly and stuck out a hand. "Oliver Wood. Nice to meet you." He shook hands with them both and I was glad to see that they were impressed with him.

            "Oliver's been recruited to be on Puddlemere's reserve team. It's like being recruited onto Manchester United's reserve team," I added, seeing their confused faces.

            "Oh, that's wonderful, dear…" Mum replied.

            "Congratulations," Dad added. __

            "Thank you."

            We stood awkwardly and I glanced at the clock then at the train before my parents finally caught the hint.

            "Well, we're going to go wait in the car, Hermione. We'll see you in a bit. It was nice to meet you Oliver," Mum said, dragging Dad off.

As soon as they were out of sight, Oliver moved towards me. "I'll miss you."

            "I'll miss you too," I said, hugging his waist.

            He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me back. "I'll owl you as often as I can…"

            The train whistle blew.

            "That's my train. I should go. I'll owl you as soon as I get in… let you know how cramped my quarters are…" He kissed me.

            "Okay. I'll see you in the fall then." I didn't want a big sappy goodbye. Visions of my chasing the train popped into my head and I shook them off with a mental shake.

            He nodded. "In the fall." He kissed me again, long and deep this time, then got onto the train. "I'll miss you!"

            As the train started off, I waved, yelling, "I'll miss you too!" then walked back towards the car, feeling heartbroken. He was gone.

¤                                              ¤                                              ¤

My summer stretched before me – a summer of sitting on the porch swing reading books with no Oliver to steal them and hide them in the tops of trees with his broom or tickling me until I whacked him with the book and lost my page anyway… I sighed. It was going to be a long summer… Already I'd been here three weeks and I missed him. I had even started seeing him… he'd appear in crowds and in my dreams and mirages around the house… very crazy stuff… even in the wizarding world…

He'd sent a owl to talk about his living quarters but they had become erratic – I hadn't heard from him in a week. I had this sinking feeling that Ron had been right. But that wasn't right… Oliver had promised me! He'd promised that we'd keep in touch!

"Dear, would you like us to heat you something up before we go or just fend for yourself?" Mum asked from inside, breaking through my miserable thoughts.

"I'll fend for myself, thanks…" I tried to sound as cheerful as I could… They were going away for the night to a friend's country home and I really wanted them to go… they'd been smothering me since I'd gotten home. At first it had been nice but now it was just too much… I needed time alone… time to wallow…

They came out with bags for the weekend and kissed me before going down the steps to pack the car.

"We'll be back tomorrow evening, alright Hermione? Call if you have any troubles…" Dad called as they pulled out of the drive, down the street, round the roundabout and were gone.

I watched them go then kicked back in the porch swing, making it drift slowly back and forth as night fell and the stars came out. It wasn't fair. Life just wasn't fair… and it wasn't fair that I was finding out that it wasn't fair this young… These were supposed to be my young and carefree times as a teen – go out and have the time of my life…

I kicked off again, pushing harder and a little voice inside my head snarked, "Oh, yes, Hermione… Lots of fun to be had…"

"Oh, shut up," I replied savagely and jumped off the swing and went inside. I made myself a sandwich and took it up to the roof where my telescope was set up. Well, at least if I wasn't doing anything all summer, I would be able to get prepared for the next year… I sighed. Even that wasn't sounding like as much fun anymore…

Looking through my telescope, I picked out Cassiopeia, the Pleiades, Orion, Antares and marked them down on my star chart. And there were Taurus, Virgo, Leo… I started to relax as the information flowed smoothly down on the chart.

"Schoolwork during summer holidays, Hermione? No wonder they call you a bookworm…" a Scottish voice drawled.

I looked up. "Yes, well… when there's nothing else to do…" He was hovered on his broomstick this time, just three feet away from me.

"I missed you…" He held an arm out to me.

I sniffed. "I missed you too…" And started towards him.

This was the point where he'd fade away and I'd be left on a darkened rooftop.

"I missed you more," he challenged.

"That's impossible," I replied, reaching out to him.

And found myself in his arms.

"You're real!" I yelled.

Surprised, he fell off, taking me with him. I landed on his chest. "Of course I am, Hermione…" he said, laughing.

I hit him on the chest. "I can't believe it! You're real!" I sat up. "Why haven't you written to me in the past week?" I asked accusingly.

He watched me seethe and grinned. "I've been busy. This was the first time in a week that I've had a night off! I've been moved up to back-up Keeper for Puddlemere… They've been training me like mad! We really want to do well this year…"

I threw myself at him. "God, Oliver! I thought you'd forgotten me! I thought Ron had been right!"

He looked puzzled. "Right? Right about what?"

            "That you'd gone off and become some bigshot and had no time for me because I was just Hermione Granger and nothing compared to the women that you'd meet out there…" I gulped. 'I will not cry, I will not cry,' I repeated to myself. I could handle this. But I couldn't. It wasn't fair. Tears fell down my cheeks against my will.

            "Just Hermione Granger?!" he half yelled. "I'd take you over a million Quidditch groupies!" He wiped a few stray tears away. "You're my girl, Hermione and that's not going to change…"

            I blinked. "Really?"

            He laughed. "You want proof?"

            I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yes."

            He spread his arms. "I just flew four hours to see you and will have to fly four hours back so I probably won't sleep tonight and I have practice at six tomorrow so I'm giving up a whole night sleep for you!"

            I smiled. "Derailing your whole training for a girl, Mr. Wood? What would your coach say?"

            He smirked. "He's not going to know… now come here. I didn't come all the way here just to talk about Quidditch. I haven't even gotten a proper kiss hello!"

            A few minutes later, we broke apart.

            "Are you hungry?" I asked, looking over at my abandoned sandwich.

            He nodded. "Starved, in fact."

            I took his hand. "Come on. I'll make us a late dinner." 

            He grabbed his broom, I grabbed my books and discarded food, and we went inside. 


	8. Chapter 8

Oliver had made three trips in two weeks. He was so sweet and so wonderful but stubborn. He wouldn't hear of it when I said I would come and visit him. "It's too long a ride on the bus, Hermione. Too long."

I shook my head even though he couldn't see me through the phone. "You fly too much, Oliver. You're going to tire yourself out and I don't want to be the reason for your failure."

His voice came back, sounding distant yet comfortingly close. "Don't worry about me… I'm fine."

But I didn't let go. "No, Oliver. I don't want you to get hurt… What if you get hit by something or fall asleep and fall off? If something were to happen to you, I don't know what I'd do…"

"Don't be so fatalistic, Hermione… I'll be fine."

"How can you be certain of that? Can you promise me that?"

He laughed. "Fine. I give up! You come and visit me then… take a long trip… I just thought your parents would be against it…"

I shrugged. "They trust me… and if I bring Harry along, I'll be fine…" I kicked the swing, moving back and forth.

"Alright, just let me know when you're coming…"

¤ ¤ ¤

I didn't end up going for another three weeks. He'd had training camp after training camp and then my family had decided to go to our cottage by the sea.

Harry agreed to come and even though I'd owled Ron, he'd stayed in stony silence and when I'd gotten to the train station, only Harry was waiting for me, trunk in hand.

I climbed onto the train after Harry and sat down excitedly. Oliver had a weekend off and we were going to go sightseeing. I couldn't wait. I envisioned dragging Oliver all over to see museums and art galleries. He'd complain but secretly love it.

He met us at the train station, shaking hands with Harry then picking me up and twirling me around. "How was your train ride?"

We both said in unison, "Fine."

He grinned. "Good."

We walked out to the parking lot towards the car. He led us to an old Volkswagen, telling Harry and I excitedly about driving. "It's much slower than flying but very cool all the same…"

It was a long ride up into the mountains to the place where we would be staying. As we came around the bend, I gasped. It was a beautiful place – big fields, soaring cliffs, a beautiful lake. And the dorms and classrooms were tall, sturdy rock buildings.

"There it is," Oliver said proudly. "The Puddlemere Training Center."

"Oh, it's beautiful, Oliver!"

We pulled up to the front and were met by the coach, Lupus Middleton. He was a big man, once one of the fearless beaters in England, with fire red hair and a jolly face. He greeted me with a crushing handshake and a large grin. "Welcome to the Puddlemere Training Center, Miss Granger."

"It's beautiful here," I replied.

"Thank you. Now, I'm going to have to steal Oliver here but you'll see him at dinner…" He grabbed a hold of Oliver's arm. "Mrs. Burrows will help you find your room and such. She'd down the hall, up the stairs, and to the right in the kitchens." He cast an appraising eye on Harry. "Young Harry Potter? Oliver's told me all about you… would you like to come work out with us this morning?"

Harry nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Alright, Hermione?"

"Alright," I replied, as they were pulled away. Then I went off to find Mrs. Burrows.

She was a short, chubby and good-natured woman – the kind of woman you thought of when the term housekeeper came up.

"You must be Miss Granger," she exclaimed wiping her hands on her apron as I appreaed in the doorway looking lost.

I nodded.

"Oh, you're a little beauty, you are…" she added, "Oliver has found himself a good one, he has!"

"Thanks. Um, I was told that you knew where I'll be staying?"

She nodded. "Yes, follow me. Your bag will be brought up for you."

"Alright, thank you." I followed her up the stairs to the main hall, where a few stragglers were finishing breakfast. They gave me an appreciative glance as they rushed by, shoving the last of their breakfast into their mouths. I felt young and shy.

We continued on, up the stairs into the North Tower – the visitors dorm.

I got my own room, with a view over the fields.

"Now, here's fresh towels and linens, your bathroom's at the end of the hall, if you need anything, I'm usually in the kitchen, and supper will be at five-thirty right after the boys finish practice…" She laughed. "You'll have fun, I'm sure."

I laughed too, remembering Oliver after practice. "I'm sure I will…"

She left and I went down to see the bathroom. There, I was met with a group of blond girls fixing their make-up in the mirror. They smiled when they saw me.

"Hi. Wow, you the new girlfriend? Whose are you?" a tall one asked.

I smiled hesitantly. "Oliver Wood's. My name's Hermione, Hermione Granger… And yourself?"

She stuck the tube back in her bag and turned around. "Maverick Burr's. I'm Starr."

The other girls introduced themselves as well, as girlfriends of other players, then filed out one by one.

I nodded. "Nice to meet you." Oliver had told me about Maverick specifically – Maverick Burr was the captain of Puddlemere United and one of the fastest Chasers out there in England, maybe even the world. "Wow, that's fantastic."

She flashed me a brilliant smile. "I know, huh? But I dunno… he's just so obsessed with Quidditch." She checked her make-up again. "But he's hot so it's okay…"

"Oh, good…"

"Well, I'll see you at lunch then." She walked out, her heels clicking.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't fantastic looking but I knew I wasn't completely ugly. But not nearly as pretty as some of the other girlfriends of the team. I sighed and turned away. I went back to my room and sat down on my bed to read a book. I found it hard to keep my eyes open and quickly dozed off.

¤ ¤ ¤

I woke again to the clock chiming noon. I was late for lunch. I got up quickly, checked myself over and rushed down to lunch.

The main hall was packed with chatty Quidditch players, some full of mud, some wet, most shoveling food into mouth speaking a mile a minute.

I spotted Harry and Oliver talking excitedly to a group of players, telling old stories about the Gryffindor team – good and bad.

I made my way over, picking between the chairs, getting the odd look flashed up at me until I reached them.

"Hermione, hey," Harry crowed, grinning. Obviously he'd spent the morning on a broomstick judging from the elated look on his face and the slightly more than normal tousled look of his hair.

"Hi," I replied, sitting down. Oliver slid his arm around me. "How was your morning?"

"Good."

"Good?" Harry crowed. "It was fantastic, Oliver! They let me fly as a Seeker for one of the practice teams and I was so close to catching the snitch, Hermione!" He was practically bouncing in his seat.

I started to fill my plate with some food.

"And you should see Oliver fly now. He's at least ten times better now!"

I smiled up at Oliver. "Really?"

He smiled back, shrugging. "They've really helped me, I found. What did you do this morning?"

"I fell asleep," I admitted sheepishly.

"You have to come watch the practice this afternoon with me, Hermione," Harry said beaming. "It's so exciting!"

"Alright, I will."

We finished lunch then went upstairs to change.


	9. Chapter 9

The stadium was large, with stands in boxes up around in towers with magical elevators that brought you up ten flights without the slightest queasy feeling.

"Wow…" It was spectacular to watch. Two teams, the Puddlemere Team and the reserve team, were out practicing. I spotted Oliver with my binoculars making lazy circles around his hoops.

Maverick Burr looked strong and cocky, sitting on his broom, holding it with one hand, the other waving cockily at fans. His black, shoulder-length hair was held back with a bandana and his white teeth flashing in the sun.

I looked towards Oliver again. He was in front of his middle hoop and a concentrated look was on his face. The game was about to begin.

It started before I even realized it and it was amazing! Players flying all over the place, knots, balls flying.

Oliver had a look of pure concentration on his face as two Chasers came towards him. They passed it back and forth, trying to dique him out but he refused to be beat, catching the quaffle and throwing it back to one of his teammates.

"That was fantastic!" I yelled over the roar of people and players.

"Yes," yelled back Middleton." He's been getting stronger and stronger over the past weeks. Soon, he'll be a strong enough player to be a back up for the team."

The practice continued with some beautiful saves, some brutal hits, and some narrow misses. He had supper then Oliver took me out for a flight.

At first I was hesitant to climb on the broom but he held it steady as we flew up to the cliffs. After putting a blanket down, we snuggled up on it.

"I'm really glad you came," he whispered, his fingers dancing up and down my arm, making shivers run down my spine.

"Me too. It's beautiful up here."

He nodded. I could tell he had something on his mind but I didn't want to push it. A silence descended on us and I searched for something to say. "The girls seem nice…"

"Yeah, this week's," he said softly, sadly.

I looked up at him, confused. "What?"

He gazed down at the dorms. "They keep a steady stream of girls coming in and out so the players don't get bored or restless…" he said woodenly.

I frowned. "They switch them up every week?"

He nodded.

"That's sick." And suddenly I felt a sick, hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Oliver, you've-"

He cut me off. "No, never. Of course not."

I swallowed. "But you've never even thought if it?"

He finally looked down at me. "No."

"Really?" I asked in a small voice.

He laughed softly. "Hermione, all I've been thinking about the past few weeks has been Quidditch and when I've got a few seconds, I'm thinking of you. I don't have time to mess around if I want to go anywhere with this. And I do. If people are going to pay me to do the thing I love to do I'm not going to mess that up…"

I wanted to cry, I wanted to jump up and down and yell, I wanted to throw my arms around him and laugh and dance.

He was mature. A funny thought, really.

"What?" he asked, watching me.

I grinned. "What do you mean?"

"You're looking at me funny."

"Funny how?"

"Just funny..."

"Am not."

"Are too." But the grin was spreading on his face.

"It's just funny."

He eyed me. "What is?"

I spread my arms dramatically. "You've grown up. You've matured..."

"That's it? That's what you're laughing at me for?" He started to tickle me. "There. Something for you to laugh about."

I shrieked. "Stop! Stop!"

He finally stopped and looked down at me intently.

It was my turn. "What?"

He shook his head smiling. "Nothing. You're beautiful."

I blushed. "Thank you." I snuggled up to him and we watched the sun set and the stars come out before going back down.

¤ ¤ ¤

Going back to school was hard to do knowing I wasn't going to see Oliver. We'd said our goodbyes, trying to keep them as short and as uncheesy as we could.

I boarded the train with my fellow classmates for Hogwarts and he boarded a train with his fellow teammates for his first game as back-up keeper on the Puddlemere United Team.

I ran into Ron while trying to find an empty car.

"Hullo Hermione," he said sullenly.

"Hello Ron," I'd replied icily.

"How's your celebrity boyfriend?" he asked snidely, reminding me faintly of Malfoy.

"He's fine, thanks… now if you have no other comments I'd like to get by…" I pushed past him and found an empty car.

¤ ¤ ¤

I'd only been settled in my room for a few minutes when a gaggle of girls pushed their way into my room and surrounded my bed where I was getting ready to read my seventh year Herbology Textbook."

"Can I help you?" I asked, suspicious thoughts creeping into my mind.

"You're Hermione Granger, right?" a tall blond girl whom I dimly remembered from my 6th year potions class as Petunia Redleaf.

I nodded slowly. "Yes."

"The Hermione Granger dating the Oliver Wood, Sex God and former Gryffindor Captain?"

I almost laughed but caught myself in time. "Well, yes… but…"

A few girls gasped, a few twittered and some just stared.

Petunia stepped forward. For a minute I was afraid they were going to throw themselves at me and tear my to shreds but she raised her arms and they all fell silent.

"Hermione Granger," she asked solemnly, "Would you do us the honour of being this year's president of the Oliver Wood Fan Club?"

This time I could not contain myself and laughed.

"You want me to be president of a club that's practically stalking my boyfriend?"

They nodded like hens in a hen yard waiting to be fed, their eyes blinking owlishly.

"Don't be ridiculous!" I scoffed. "Why on earth would I add to the madness?" I started out of the girls' dormitory.

"You know things that none of us do about him!" Petunia called after me.

"And it'll stay that way!" I called back, walking out the portrait hole.

Alright, let me know! And thanks to everyone who's reviewed! You're awesome! ciao!


	10. Chapter 10

"…and then they asked me to be the president of the Oliver Wood Fan Club…" I finished, waiting for his reaction to my story.

Oliver threw back his head and laughed long and hard. "That's fantastic! Oh, I wish I could have been there to see their faces… to see your face…"

I laughed with him, wishing that he were here with me. All I could see was his head and shoulders. Just this year, Hogwarts had put in another room with fireplaces with which you could call other wizards around the world – your family, friends. Oliver was traveling with Puddlemere but had yet to play when he called on me. "So have they told you when you're to play?" I asked, trying to sound upbeat.

"If I ever play…" he replied moodily.

"You'll play," I replied positively. "I know you'll play. Your team is doing fantastic, by the way. You're almost top in the league."

"No thanks to me… I'm just a benchwarmer…" He was so down that I didn't know what to say to him. He was just being negative.

"Oliver, you're a fantastic Keeper. You're just young. It's impressive all the same that you're even on the team. You're just a rookie. There's so much more that you can do…"

He smiled wryly. "I know. It's just depressing right now. I warm up with them then all I get to do is watch them all play while I sit it out."

I wanted to hug him. He looked about ready to give up and come home. "Just give it time… you'll play."

His smile grew. "Oh, Hermione, what would I do without you and your ever positive attitude?"

I shrugged. "Who knows… you'd have to resort to the love of your fan club to get you through your hard times…"

He laughed. "Never!" Then he turned his head. Someone was speaking to him. "Sorry Hermione, I've got to go… we have curfew so I'll talk to you later. I'll send you an owl soon."

I leaned forward and kissed him quickly. "See you."

He left and I went back towards the common room, feeling half joyous at being able to speak to him and half depressed that I wouldn't see him until at least Christmas…

¤ ¤ ¤

"Oy, Hermione! Wait up!"

I turned my head and saw Malfoy making his way towards me. "What do you want, Malfoy?" I couldn't help myself from sniping.

He fell into step with me, taken aback at my tone, and then shrugged. "Alright, I suppose I deserve that for the way I treated you in the past years…"

I stared at him. He sounded so sophisticated, so suave, almost gentlemanly. "Pardon?"

He smiled, a natural smile. "I've been an ass to you ever since I met you, Hermione… and I'm sorry. I should not have treated you so."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Draco please, Hermione… And I was wondering if you'd gotten a partner for Potions yet?"

I shook my head. "No, but…" I was at loss for words.

"But what?"

"But you're Slytherin…"

"And you're Gryffindor. So what?"

"You hate me."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do-" He caught himself. "Let's not quarrel, Hermione. Come on. Who would you rather? Me or Pavarti Patil?"

I studied him as I decided. Malfoy, er, Draco, the last person I'd ever think of as a partner, or the girl who had almost ruined my life last year. "What's the catch?"

He spread his hands. "No catch, Hermione. I would just rather someone who actually knew what they were doing as my partner this year than some oaf such as Crabbe or Goyle… Wouldn't you?"

I nodded. "Alright, but any funny business and I'm finding another."

He nodded. "That's just. Alright, see you in Potions, Miss Granger, and thank you." He gave me a mock bow then strode off.

I shook my head and continued on back to my room. People these days.

"First fame, and now you're going after power?"

I spun around. Ron was lounging against a statue. "What?"

"Tired of the celebrity boyfriend so now you're moving up?" he said, curling his lip at me.

"Are you tired of stalking people yet?" I shot back. "And my life is none of your business."

He shrugged, pushing off. "I bet Oliver would love to know that you're cheating on him with a Slytherin."

I started. "I am not cheating on him. Draco and I are just partners for Potions, that's all. And I don't see why I have to explain myself to you."

"See, you're already on a first name basis…"

I wanted to cry. No, I wanted to hit him. I clenched my fists at my side. "What is your problem, Ronald Weasly?" I cried. "If you're not happy then no one else can be? Why are you being such an ass? Especially to me! We've been friends for the past six years until you decided that I was lower than dirt in your opinion. I liked you last year and you decided that you wanted someone else and then when I gave up on you, you go evil on me and refuse to speak to me. And now that I'm happy, you decide that you want to take that away from me too? Well, forget it. Until you learn to act like a grown-up, don't bother speaking to me because I don't want to hear it." I stormed off, fuming. Why were boys so stupid?


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Alright, thanks to everyone who's reviewed… you guys rock! So, here's the next chapter, I hope it's long enough for those of you who were looking for longer chapters… and, as always… let me know what you think! Ciao!

The next few months until Christmas were surreal. Draco was unbelievably nice, Harry was never around because he was incredibly busy with Quidditch, Ron was unbearable. It was as if the whole perspective had shifted around. If someone had asked me if Draco would replace Ron as one of my friends – as loosely as the term was used – I would have called them completely insane and in need of a trip to St. Mungo's.

¤ ¤ ¤

"Hermione, did you get the homework done for Advanced Astronomy?" Draco called over to me from his table at breakfast.

"Of course!" I called back. "Did you?"

"Of course!" He grinned and went back to his toast.

I shook my head. So very odd.

¤ ¤ ¤

I saw Harry on my way to Potions and we fell into step together. "So, how's the team this year coming?"

He shrugged, looking tired. "They're alright. The new beaters are coming along fine. They're no Weasley twins but they're coming along. It just takes up so much of my time. I mean, I haven't really seen you outside class in ages, Hermione. I'm sorry."

I shrugged back, smiling. "Don't worry about me, Harry, I'm fine."

He frowned. "Yeah, I heard you've taken to hanging out with Draco more and more lately…"

I sighed. "Been talking to Ron then? It's nothing. It's odd. I mean, Draco has hated me since I came to this school and now he's changed and I don't know why but that's alright. I mean, I'm alright with him being nice to me. Even if it is to get something for himself, I really don't care as long as it doesn't affect me. He's even better to Neville now."

"I don't trust him, Hermione. Just watch yourself."

"I will. Thanks though." We walked into class and he went over to Ron and his cauldron while I made my way to the front to where Draco was waiting with a smile.

"Question five was hard, wasn't it?" he asked, shifting over on the bench to make room for me.

I plunked down my books. "Yes, it was."

We started to work, cutting things up and mixing them into the cauldron. Today we were creating a sleeping draught.

I had to admit Draco and I made a good team, we were the top two of our year and our minds worked similarly – I cut up a set of beetroots and handed them over, not even looking up but knowing his hand was right there to take them.

About halfway through the class, I looked up to find him watching me as if he wanted to say something. "Yes?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on, Draco… spit it out…"

He shrugged. "Well, you see, my father has gotten me tickets for the opening of Sunny Imbroglio's new opera this weekend, and well, I had originally thought to bring Pansy but seeing as I don't really speak to her anymore, I was wondering if you would like to go with me… as friends," he added quickly, as I opened my mouth to protest. "I know that you are with Oliver Wood. It's too bad that I didn't reform a year earlier… but no matter, I would rather have you as a friend than nothing at all…"

I nodded. "Well, Draco, I will have to think about it… it's a beautiful offer but I just can't decide right now…"

"I know. It was just thrown at you… take all the time you wish… but I shall need a decision by Friday as the opera is on Sunday and I need to make travel arrangements…"

"Okay. Thanks Draco. Now, I need the mirkweed."

"Of course!" He handed it over, distractedly.

I cut it up methodically, wondering what I was going to do.

¤ ¤ ¤

It still plagued me when I left potions, waving goodbye to Draco. Harry and Ron were in deep conversation so I had no chance of talking to him about it. Even if Ron and I had been friends, I still would know his answer. 'Draco Malfoy, Hermione? He's dirt, lower than dirt, he's disgusting and vile and wrong.' Maybe before this year I would have agreed with him but Draco had changed… maybe actually grown up.

I was a bit apprehensive about talking to Oliver about it. I mean, he had a right to know what I was doing and it wasn't as if I were going behind his back on anything, Draco and I were just friends and it was going to stay that way. But on the other hand, I wouldn't want him to know about nothing. He didn't want to know all about all my friendships so why would he start now? I felt torn – what if I told him and it blew way out of proportion and then became this huge deal in our relationship even though it was nothing? But on the other hand, what if it was a huge deal afterwards and he yelled at me because I hadn't told him… but it shouldn't bother him because it was nothing so therefore he didn't need to know about it.

And it was just as friends. Draco knew about Oliver and therefore would not do anything out of line, judging from his behaviour lately.

So it was decided… I'd go with Draco to the opera… merlin, it sounded so _old_…

¤ ¤ ¤

I checked myself in the mirror one more time, making sure that nothing was out of place. I wanted to look presentable in front of Draco's parents. I knew that his father disapproved of me. I knew that his father actually probably hated me. I didn't know why he had allowed me to come. Draco must have really pushed it.

That made me suspicious. Draco could have brought any girl that he wanted to this opera, yet he asked the one person that he knew his father hated. Was this a personal attack on his father? I didn't want to be in the middle of anything.

I shook my head, careful not to shake my hair loose, and went out to meet Draco.

We'd gotten special permission from Dumbledor to go out tonight and Draco's personal coach waited at the gate.

Draco himself was dressed up in a simple black tuxedo, looking rather dashing, with his normally slicked back hair gel-free and loose, falling into his eyes and forcing him to toss his head back to get it out. It was pouring out so he was holding an umbrella at his side.

"Hermione, you look beautiful!" he called, as I walked down the stairs.

"Thanks, you look handsome as well…" I said, smiling. _Although I would give a million Dracos just to have one Oliver waiting at the bottom of this staircase for me…_I thought to myself.

He held out his arm to help me to the carriage while holding the umbrella steady so we wouldn't get wet. "Milady?"

I allowed him, fear mounting in me as we walked down the path arm in arm. There was no way that Draco thought that this wasn't a date… "So I heard from Oliver today-" I started.

He helped me into the carriage then got in beside me. "The opera is going to be lovely," he cut in. "My father got us the best seats. They'll meet us at the opera house…"

I nodded, suddenly wishing I'd told Oliver about tonight.

¤ ¤ ¤

"Mother, Father, this is Hermione. Hermione, my parents, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."

I felt the urge to curtsey to them but fought it, settling for a nod and a shake of the hand. "How do you do this evening?"

Lucius smiled, more of a smirk. "Good and yourself?"

"Good."

"Shall we find our seats then?" Narcissa asked her husband.

He nodded. "But of course…" They started away and he looked back, saying, "Have fun you two…" And then they were gone, leaving us to find our seats.

"This way Hermione…" Draco, said, taking my arm as we followed an attendant to our seats.

I looked around frantically. What was I going to do?

¤ ¤ ¤

We were seated in the first set of seats, where we would have a perfect view of the opera.

Draco seated himself close. Now was the time where I would have to tell him, again, that I wasn't with him.

"Er, Draco?"

He turned to me, eyes bright. "Yes, Hermione?" I expected him to say darling or something equally as crazy.

"Well, you see, I'm a bit mixed up… I mean, I thought we were friends…"

"We are friends…"

"Just friends."

He furrowed his brow, looking at me quizzically. "What?"

"When I accepted your invitation, I thought we were coming here as friends."

"We are…" he said, innocently, a little too innocently for my taste.

"But it doesn't feel that way," I said slowly. "I mean, your parents and they way you're acting…"

He laughed lightly. "I'm not acting any old way, Hermione… Now, shush, the curtain is rising…"

The opera started and I started to enjoy myself, despite not being able to shake off the awkward feelings.

About halfway through, I felt his hand cover mine and whispered furiously, "Draco!"

"What?" he replied calmly, not taking his eyes off the opera.

"Your hand!"

He closed his eyes, sighing. "Oh, Hermione. Come on. Forget about Oliver Wood. You two won't be together soon anyway. He's going to be so wrapped up in Quidditch that he'll forget all about you. When's the last time you heard from him? A week, maybe? Two? It isn't realistic. You and me, we're real. Head Boy and Head Girl. That's real, that's right. So, why don't you stop fighting it and forget all about that muscle head and enjoy your time with me?"

I yanked my hand away. "What? That's all you wanted me for? Because I would elevate your position in school? Because that's the way that it goes?" I was angry, no, I was furious. "Well, forget it. And forget you! I cannot believe I fell for all of this, all the being nice, the helping me. I should have known you wouldn't suddenly change from being an egotistical, self-helping, jerk to a nice guy. You're just like your father!" I stood up, ignoring the scathing looks and the noises of disapproval. "This is over. I'm leaving."

He chuckled. "Where are you going to go, Hermione? How are you going to get home? You have no money and no way of getting back to Hogwarts… You have to stay with me…"

"No, I don't…" I stormed out.

¤ ¤ ¤

I got outside before realizing that he was right. In a matter of seconds, I was soaked through to the bone and started to shiver, the rain ruining my hair and my dress and running into my eyes and down my cheeks to mix with my tears. What was I going to do?

"Hermione?"

I swung around, fists raised, ready to belt Draco in the mouth. Instead, Oliver stood a few feet away, water running down his face and into the collar of his suit. He looked concerned and ready to go back inside and knock Draco's head off.

"Wha- what are you doing here?" I sniffled, moving towards him.

"Harry told me about Draco..." He slid his arms around me. "So, I came…"

"I wanted to tell you…" I sobbed into his jacket, glad that he was here.

"I know, it's okay…" He rubbed a hand up and down my back.

"I should have…"

He pulled me away. "Yes, but it's okay. You're okay now… so let's get out of this rain… I've a flat here in London, it's not much but it'll do for now..." He wrapped an arm around me as we ran towards the nearest taxi.


	12. Chapter 12

"I'll make us something hot," he said, taking in my drowned rat look. "You go clean up. There are some clothes in the bedroom, I haven't had time to really move in but there's something at least…"

I nodded, melting at the concerned look in his face. I went to the bathroom and wrung out my clothing and hair, washing off my running make-up and gel from my hair. Hanging my clothes up, I went into the bedroom wrapped in a towel looking for something to wear.

I came back into the kitchen in a pair of his boxers and a shirt to see him pouring tea for the both of us. His sopping jacket dripped off a chair, discarded along with his tie. "Thanks."

He nodded. "Sit and drink your tea. I'll be right back." Grabbing his jacket and tie, he went off towards the bathroom.

"Okay." I looked around while he changed, taking in his new flat. On the way over, he'd told me that he'd acquired a flat in London to have in the off-season and for downtime.

It was quite a barren flat but very cozy. It looked like your average college type flat except the array of Quidditch posters that adorned the walls, their players flying in and out of the scenes.

"So we should get you back to Hogwarts then," Oliver said, muffled through the shirt he was pulling over his head as he returned.

"Oliver," I replied, laughing, "It's one o'clock in the morning… There aren't any trains going at this hour…"

He looked distraught. "Well, I'll go make up the bed for you then." And disappeared back into the bedroom.

I followed. "Where are you going to sleep then?"

"The couch," he replied, not turning around as he spread a sheet over the bed and tucked it in.

"I'm not kicking you out of your own bed to sleep on a couch." I eyed the bed. "It's big enough for the both of us…"

He turned and looked at me scandalously. "I don't think so, Hermione."

"Why not? We're not going to do anything."

"Because, if Dumbledor finds out then he'll never let you out again and he will find out. He's like that… And besides, you don't know what could happen and I refuse to let anything happen because it's just not right…"

I bit my lip. He was right and I knew it. Dumbledor would kill us, well, would be very stern on us… I sighed. "You're right."

He smiled wistfully. "Goodnight, Hermione." He cupped my face with one hand and kissed me gently. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight." I watched him go back into the living room then turned back to the bed and fell into it thankfully. I hugged his pillow to me and breathed in the smell of Oliver's cologne.

¤ ¤ ¤

As soon as I walked into Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall swept down on me. "I would like to see you in my office, Miss Granger."

I swallowed hard and followed her up to her office. She went around to her desk and sat to look at me. I stood and looked down, feeling more and more nervous with every passing minute. 

"That was a very dangerous thing you did last night, Miss Granger," she said reproachfully. 

"I know, professor, but it wasn't planned… I didn't mean to end up at Oliver's. I was scared by Draco and then I ran away from the opera and Oliver showed up because he knew that I was going to be there and he just wanted to say hello and-" 

She held up her hand. "I realize that, Miss Granger… But you should have come back to Hogwarts last night. What if something had happened to you?" 

I blinked. "I'm sorry, professor. I just… nothing happened… It was one o'clock in the morning when we realized that I had to get back and there aren't any buses or trains at that time and so I figured I'd stay…" 

She nodded. "Yes, I know. I'm not going to punish you. I just wanted to know you were safe but I think that your relationship with Oliver Wood should not take prominence in your life… you may go." She turned to her books, signaling that we were finished. 

I left, feeling miserable. But how was it my fault? 

¤ ¤ ¤

"I didn't do anything wrong! Draco was the one who came onto me and forced me to leave and then McGonagall blames me? That's not fair!" 

Harry nodded. "She was just worried, Hermione. We all were… You just disappeared…" 

We were sitting in the library trying to finish some homework. I just couldn't get the conversation with McGonagall out of my head. It was bothering me. 

"But I didn't mean to go to London in order to see Oliver. I didn't even know he was there!" 

"Well, it didn't look good… I even went to her to tell her that I'd told Oliver but she didn't really listen to me…" He shrugged. "At least you didn't get into trouble for it…" 

I was about to reply when Ron ran in and threw himself at me, hugging me hard. I stiffened. "Ron, what are you doing?" 

He pulled back. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but as soon as I heard you'd gone missing I flipped. I thought Draco had murdered you or something! I'm sorry for being an ass!" 

I stared at him for a moment, shocked, then burst into laughter. "It was only for a night, Ron." 

"I know but we were afraid that something had happened to you and then it started me thinking because I'd been such a prat to you and the last thing we'd said to each other was horrible. So I'm sorry." 

"And what about Oliver?" I asked. 

He shrugged. "Well, that's going to take some time to get used to but alright… there are worse ones…" 

I laughed again. "Oh, Ron..." 

Harry, who had been watching us with baited breath the whole time, sighed happily. "Finally you two have made up…" 

Author's note: Alright, sorry that it's so short but I've got writer's block… so if anyone has any ideas, let me know… I think it's winding down… well, soon anyway…


	13. Chapter 13

I closed my eyes and stared down at the copy of the Daily Prophet in my lap. It was opened to the Sports section and was mostly on the England Quidditch Nationals. Puddlemere had won. The even more fantastic thing was that Oliver had been keeper in that winning game. In the semi-final game, the first-string Puddlemere Keeper had injured himself and Oliver had gone in. And then he'd played in the final. And then they'd won.

Oliver had been ecstatic then scared then nervous then anxious then back to nervous throughout the whole thing. I, of course, hadn't been able to go to his game, no matter how much I begged and pleaded. After the Draco incident, regardless of what had happened, McGonagall had sent home an owl to my parents and they'd laid strict ground rules and I was not allowed to take off to see him. Even though it was probably the most important game of his life. After, though, he'd told me that it was probably better that I hadn't gone because he'd been nervous enough and having me there probably would have made him even more so. 

It made sense, I supposed, but I was enraged all the same. I was almost 18, almost an adult. I had the belief that I would be able to make decisions based on my own judgement. Apparently not...

¤ ¤ ¤

But, no, that wasn't giving me that sick feeling in my stomach, it wasn't making my eyes sting. It was the picture in the paper. The picture of Oliver with a tall, leggy, beautiful looking blond. Who was she and what was she doing arm in arm with my boyfriend? They looked cozy and happy, walking into the victory banquet arm in arm, large smiles on their faces.  
I'd sent him an owl a few days ago but he still hadn't replied. I was trying not to freak out because there obviously was a fantastic explanation for this... I was just waiting for it to appear.

¤ ¤ ¤

"Harry, have you talked to Oliver lately?" I asked as I sat down at the breakfast table. He shook his head. "No, not lately? Why? Haven't you?" I shook my head. "No." 

He patted my arm gently. "He'll owl you, Hermione, don't worry... They just have to do all this promotional stuff and resigning and loads of crazy things to be taken care of..."

"He's right, Hermione," Ron added. "I've read it in Quidditch weekly. They're loads of things they have to do. It's crazy."

I shook my head. "Well, he's not busy enough to be going out with beautiful blonds..."

Harry and Ron groaned simultaneously.

"We hoped you wouldn't see that picture..." Ron started.

"Yeah, but I'm sure it's not that bad..." Harry added. "She's probably a friend."

"Or an old girlfriend," added Ron helpfully then froze, his mouth still open. Then his jaw clicked shut and he closed his eyes.

Harry shot him a glare before turning back to Hermione. But she was gone, sweeping out the door, paper clutched in her hands. "Hermione!" he called after her, but she was already out of sight. He turned back to Ron. "Great job, Ron...."

Ron nodded miserably. "I've a knack for saying the wrong thing, don't I?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, but let's hope you're wrong... for Oliver's sake..."

¤ ¤ ¤

I went straight up to the owlery. That was it. I was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what. I wrote a note to Oliver,

Oliver, I don't care if you've decided that being a Quidditch player is the most important thing to you – it should be, but do not pretend to be a sweet and charming man towards me if you do not really mean it. If you want to break up with me then go ahead. No, actually, I'll make it easy for you. We're over, unless you'd like to explain to me why you haven't even talked to me in the past two weeks and also if you'd like to add a small explanation about the blond girl in the picture with you at the World Cup Ball, it would be greatly appreciated. I'm not angry, Oliver, though it may seem like it... but I just don't think that we're able to have a real relationship if you're trying to be a professional Quidditch player and I'm trying to be a student and we're forever a million miles apart. I think you are a great Quidditch player and will succeed in everything you try at but you really need to focus on that right now. So, that's it. I hope that we can remain friends after this. Goodbye Oliver, Hermione. 

Rolling it up, I tied it to Hedwig, who'd landed softly on my shoulder, nuzzling me softly. I sniffed back tears and petted Hedwig. "Go," I said softly, then leaned against the window frame to watch the snowy owl disappear. I took a deep breath. Well, that was that. I turned and went back down to my room and cried.

¤ ¤ ¤

I was awoken in the middle of the night by a gentle tapping on my window. Rolling over, I opened it to find Hedwig on mysill, a small package in her claws. I moved back as the owl hopped in and dropped it in my lap.

I carefully unwrapped it to find a letter as a rose dropped into my lap. I frowned. This was not a good start to a letter in reply to a breakup letter. I opened it,

Hermione, Come to the Quidditch pitch. Oliver I frowned. What? But that was it. The short note and a rose. 

Getting out of bed, I quickly changed into clothes and slipped out of the Gryffindor dorm, down the stairs, and out the door. I started towards the Quidditch pitch, seeing his dark figure standing stock still in the middle of the pitch, looking up at the stars.

"Oliver..." I started as I neared.

He turned. His face was grave and a pained look stole across it before he looked away. "No, Hermione. I have to talk to you. I have to tell you something." He faced me again and took two steps towards me, hands stretched before him before faltering and they dropped to his side.

I swallowed my words. This was the time to find out the truth. "Okay, talk. Tell me everything."

He nodded. "Okay, well, here's the thing. The woman you saw was Theodora Puddlestein. She's an old girlfriend of mine. We saw each other during third and fourth year. It was a very big relationship for me. I was so wrecked when she broke up with me I couldn't even play Quidditch for a week." He smiled wryly then continued doggedly on as I stared impassively at him, a blank look on my face. "So, when she showed up after the game, I was so happy to have won and to see her that I invited her to the Ball with me. We were old friends and that's what old friends do. I was so happy about the game and so involved with everything that I didn't have time to send you an owl. And I know that's a stupid excuse," he said quickly, seeing me open my mouth to protest. "but I seriously didn't mean to... And then at the Ball I had too much to drink and Theo had too much to drink and I hadn't told her about you because it never came up and we ended up back at my hotel room. I didn't even realize that I was kissing her until she undid the buttons of my shirt. I'm sorry Hermione. I'm so sorry..." He came towards me again but I backed away.

"What happened, Oliver?" I asked woodenly. But I already knew.

He sighed. "It happened Hermione. I slept with her and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't even really want to. I wanted you to be there and I think I just imagined you there and then before I realized it, it was too late..." He looked down at his hands as if they had the answer. "I know I can't say anything to make this any better for you but I'm really and truly sorry and if I could do it again then I wouldn't have."

I folded my arms across my chest. "Okay."

He looked up at me, startled. "What?"

"I said, 'okay.' It's not like I can change it, Oliver... You've made your decision and I've made mine." I straightened up. "So that's that." I turned to go but he grabbed me by the arm.

"No, Hermione, that can't be it. You can't just throw away everything that we could have that we do have on one stupid little mistake that I've made..." He gripped my shoulders tightly.

"We can get through this."

I flinched. "You're hurting me..."

"You're killing me..." he replied. "Ever since I met you, I see things differently. School wasn't just something that I did between Quidditch practices, it was fun and interesting and that's because of you. My life is no longer driven by Qudditch and for that I am thankful to you. I don't think that I could have gotten through the season without you. I think I would have quit when they didn't give me first-string. I hate to lose, Hermione, you know that. And I'm not losing you."

I stood still, studying him. "This is going to take a lot of hard work, Oliver."

"I know."

"And you're going to have to earn my trust again. It's not just something I toss to anyone..."

He closed his eyes. "I know."

"And if you do this to me ever again, I will beat you with a shovel..."  
  
He snorted with laughter. "Alright, if I ever do it again, I'll let you..."

I reached out to him. "What am I going to do with you Oliver, honestly?"

He gathered me into his arms, wrapping us both in his cloak. "I dunno, Hermione, I really don't..."  
  
Note: Hope that's long enough... next chapter – the romance! :D Let me know what you think and suggestions are totally welcome because I don't really know where I'm going with this... thanks to all who reviewed! Ciao!


	14. Chapter 14

Note: Okay, sorry about the long delay... I had terrible writer's block... hope this is good... let me know what you think! And thanks to everyone who has given me feedback, you guys totally rock! Ciao!

£ £ £

The rest of the year went by very quickly. Oliver would meet me on my visits to Hogsmead, he'd come by the school on weekends to be with me, spending his weekdays in London or up in the mountains training for Quidditch. It worked well, if I was a bit tired from out late nights out. I was happy and he was happy and that was all that mattered.

£ £ £

I lay back on the ground and gazed up at the stars. "They're beautiful, Oliver."

He slid an arm around me. "You're beautiful."

I blushed, glad of the darkness so he couldn't see. "Thanks. How's training coming along?""It's good. Middleton had a fit yesterday when one of the beaters sneezed. He thought for sure Ronny had the flu. Sealed him away from the rest of us muttering about taking out the whole team. Terribly funny to watch."I giggled and nuzzled into his shoulder. "I love this."He tilted his head towards me. "What?"

"The stars, this night, lying here with you. It's comfortable."

He checked his watch. "Well, enjoy it because we haven't got much longer. I refuse to keep you late again tonight. If you doze off during class, I'll never forgive myself."

I laughed softly. "I won't fall asleep. I have naps. It's fine. I'm fine."

He pulled me closer. "I know you're fine but I won't be your academic downfall this close to the end..."

I poked him in the side. "Don't be so serious. I'll go to bed early tonight, okay mother?"

"Laughing at me now?" He started to tickle me. "I'll give you something to laugh about."

We tussled for a few minutes, ending up with me pinned underneath him, my arms held fast above my head.

"Give?" he asked softly.

I struggled one last time before giving up. "Give."

He smiled gently then bent to kiss me.

Someone cleared their throat a few feet from us.

We scrambled up from the ground and faced Dumbledor's stern face.

"Sir, I can explain. It's all my fault..." Oliver began.

Dumbledor held up a hand. "Please, Mr. Wood... I was young once too you know..." His eyes twinkled. "In the future can you please keep the visits to daylight hours. It's dangerous at night when one is not paying attention to his or her surroundings." He started away. "Good night Mr. Wood, Miss Granger."

I waited until he was safely out of sight and out of hearing before a nervous giggle escaped my mouth. "I thought for sure we were done for..."

Oliver was laughing too and I could see the tension drain from his body. "Oh, Merlin. I thought I was going to be murdered on the spot..." He straightened and held out his arms to me, in which I gratefully fell into. "He does have a point though," he added softly, glancing out at the Forbidden Forest.

I nodded. "I'd never thought of that..."

He smiled. "Well, let's clean up here and go in. When's your next Hogsmead visit?"

£ £ £

Graduation was beautiful. My parents and Oliver came, and were waving madly from the tenth row, my mother's eyes misty when I went up to get my diploma. They took a zillion pictures of me, Harry, Ron, the three of us, me and Oliver before finally leaving us alone.

Oliver led me away from the crowd to our tree by the lake with an air of excitement. "I got you a present for graduation but you have to close your eyes," he said, his eyes sparkling.

"Oliver, you didn't have to get me anything..."

He grinned. "Close your eyes."

I did obediently and he placed something in my hand. When I opened them, I was holding a small black box. Half-excited, half-scared, I opened it. Inside sat a shiny set of silver keys. I looked up questioningly at him, picking them up gently in my hand. "Oliver, wha-"

"They're to my flat. In London. Your parents told me that you were accepted to a job in London and I figured that since you would be there and I had a flat there where I stayed most of my time, except the days that I was off playing games, then we could live together. You don't have to pay for anything, the team pays for the flat, and then we could be together," he said, quickly, his words almost blending together. I almost didn't catch them. "I know that moving in together would be a big thing and we might try to kill each other after a few weeks but I figured that we might as well try, you know. Because we can now. We're both done school and we've got the beginnings of jobs. I just want to try, Hermione. That's all I ask." He looked so scared that I might say no that I almost wanted to laugh.

I closed my fingers over the keys and smiled at him. "I'm willing to try if you are."

He laughed and picked me up, twirling me around. "This is going to be fabulous." He kissed me then put me down. "Okay, so I'll redo the flat and it'll be ready for you when you want to move in."

I laughed along with him almost jumping up and down in excitement. This was going to be fantastic. Then I stopped. What was I going to tell my parents?

£ £ £

I waited until we were home and then sprung the news on them.

"What?" Mother asked, her eyes wide. "You can't just start living with the boy since you just got out of school. Are you going to marry him next?"

"Mother!" I said, shocked. "I've only been with him for a little over a year. We haven't even talked about that at all... I can't believe you even thought of that..." Oh god. Thinking of me married made me giggle. "Honestly..."

"Well, Oliver is a decent boy," Dad started slowly. "He's got a flat and a job – of sorts – and he's a bright and honorable boy... at least she's chosen a good one. Remember when Annie's daughter took up house with that dreadful boy, Hatch, was his name, or Hutch..."

My mother shuddered. "Alright, Hermione, if your heart is set on this, I will allow you to move into the flat with him, you're mature enough to make your own decisions I suppose... But you must promise me that you'll be careful. If at anytime you feel uncomfortable, I want you straight home, understand?"

I was so embarrassed. "Mo-ther... it's fine. We're not getting married or anything... we're just sharing a flat..."

She wiped her eyes. "I know but you're just growing up so fast that I'm afraid that it's too fast..."

Dad went over and put his arm around her. "She'll be fine, Francine. She's a mature, brilliant, and balanced girl. If anyone can handle it, it's her..."

I blushed. "Well, I should get packing... I'm to move in in two weeks."

£ £ £

He was being very secretive when I arrive at the flat, leaving me at the bottom and carrying all my things up for me then leading me up, his hands firmly over my eyes.

"Oliver, what's going on?"

He laughed. "Shh, you'll see... almost there..." I heard him push open the door then let go of my eyes.

"Surprise!"

I was standing in a newly furnished flat, everything had been redone. It was amazing what cleaning up and a few coats of paint did for a place.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and the twins were watching me with identical grins on their faces.

"Had to help Oliver get ready for the big day," the twins said in unison. "He's slightly interior decorating handicapped..."

Ginny giggled. "Come see everything!"

I followed her and the boys followed me to Oliver's old room, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen. Everything was refurbished and clean and beautiful. I turned to face them. "I love it!"

They all grinned back at me.

Oliver came over, putting his arms around me. "I'm glad you love it."  
  
"It's perfect." I stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly.

He pulled me closer. "Mmm, that's what I missed..."

"Well, that's our cue," Harry said, gathering his jacket.

"Yeah, just don't say we didn't warn you, Oliver, old boy. As soon as we walk out that door, you're through. No more boys' night, no more freedom," Fred said.

"And suddenly it'll be twenty years from now and you've traded in your flat for a colonail and your broom for a minivan," added George.

"God, you jerks! Let's go... bye Hermione," Ginny cried, pushing her brothers to the door.

"See you," Ron said, pulling the door shut. "Give us a ring sometime!"

The door shut and then we were alone. It was unsettling, really. I mean, I've been with Oliver alone before but never like this. Never something so permanent...

"So..."

I guess he'd caught the uncomfortable vibes because he started to fidget. "So... what would you like to do?"

"I guess I'll move my things in?" I said, half in question.

"Sure, that's great."

I went into the room and started to pull out my things, putting them away in places that I could find. I could hear him in the kitchen.

"You want something to eat, Hermione?" he called.

"No thanks," I called back. "I'm fine." I pulled out a picture of us and went to place it on the side table but instead found an identical picture already in place. My eyes softened and I smiled. So adorable... I went out into the living room to put it on the mantle then returned to unpacking. I was trying to find a place for the pictures of Harry, Ron and me from first year and then seventh year when he poked his head in.

"Hey, Hermione, what do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Well, I have to go in for orientation with the Ministry of Magic tomorrow so that'll take up most of my time."

"Oh, alright then." He left then after a few seconds came back. "What about tomorrow night?"

I blinked. "Well, I'll come home and then we'll figure things out from there, alright?"

He nodded. "Alright." He turned to go then turned back quickly. "Oh, and about the sleeping arrangements..." He trailed off.

I nodded. "Yes, I've been wanting to talk to you about that... I just... it's just..." I didn't know how to put this without sounding like a complete prude.

He leaned against the doorpost. "I think I know what you're going to say and I want you to know that I won't touch you without your say so...I promise..."

I sighed in relief. "Well, that was easy enough."

He grinned. "So, need any help with anything?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine, thanks."

"Okay, I'll be in the kitchen if you do."

"Thanks."

"Anything at all."

"Okay, thank you."

"Like, lifting heavy things or putting things on top shelves..."

"Oliver, I'm fine, thank you."

"Sure, I know... I just..."

"I know. Thanks."

He left and I sighed. If he was going to be like this – a nervous little boy – the whole time then this was going to be a long stay.

£ £ £

When we climbed into bed that night, I sighed in contentment. Wrapped solidly in Oliver's arms, I felt only safety and happiness.

"Goodnight Oliver."

"Goodnight, love," he replied sleepily, kissing my head then falling back into slumber.

I lay awake for awhile, too excited and too happy to let sleep take me. This was our apartment and this was going to work out so well! It was going to be great.

£ £ £

"Oliver, what kinds of things do we need for dinner tonight? I'll stop by the store on my way home," I called out as I was going out the door.

"No, I think we're fine," he called back, coming out to give me a kiss goodbye.

I kissed him back and left.

It takes me thirty minutes by tube and then I have to walk for fifteen to get to the Ministry of Magic. I have a job as a junior Auror. Right now, all I could do was research but as long as I kept working at it and didn't give up, they said I would be able to be promoted in a short time.

"Morning Hermione."

"Hiya, Harry," I replied.

Harry was working with me in the Auror department and Ron had gotten in under the head of Sports and Gaming.

"How's married life?" he asked, grinning.

I sat down at my desk and tactfully ignored him, setting out my things for the day. There was a running joke with the Weasley family and now in the office that Oliver and I were married or at least well on our way.

"Granger, we need to check out this batch of spells to see if they're authentic," Amber Thistlematch, my boss, said, dropping a pile of scrolls on my desk.

And so the day began.

£ £ £

"Well, see you, Hermione."

"Bye Harry," I called, waving as I walked to the tube.

He lived just a short walk away from the Ministry, had his own apartment.

The best part of my workday is the ride home, I think. It's when I get my alone time and I can sort everything out and it feels like limbo – like nothing is going to change and everything is perfect and balanced in the world.

"Hello?" I pushed open the door to our flat. "Oliver?"

He picked me up in a hug, giving me a kiss. "Hello. I'm just on my way out. We have an interview til seven... oh, and I forgot. We need something for dinner... see you..." He was out the door before I could say one word.

"G'bye then," I said to the shut door, frowning. Something for dinner? I went into the kitchen. It was a mess. Dirty pots and pans strewn around the kitchen, dirty plates on the table.

The door opened and closed as Oliver made his way our room. "Sorry, forgot something..."

"Oliver!"

He came into the kitchen, a sheaf of papers in his hand. "What?"

I spread my arms out. "What is this?"

He shrugged. "Sorry, had a few mates over for lunch. I'll clean it up when I get back..."

I shook my head. "That's disgusting. We're going to get insects, Oliver..."

He checked his watch. "Well, I have to go. I'm sorry. I should have done it before."

I sighed. "I'll do it. You go. But you owe me."

He kissed me quickly. "One hundred times over." Then he was gone.

£ £ £

I woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. "Oliver?" I whispered, reaching out. Nothing. I could hear him moving around in the kitchen. Sliding out of bed, I padded out to the kitchen. I was met with the sight of Oliver drinking from the carton of milk. "Oliver!"

He started, splashing it all down his front. "What?" he asked, wiping his mouth.

"You can't drink from the carton!"

He sighed. "Hermione, the only people who drink from this carton are you and me and I don't think you would be too disgusted with my germs." He grinned at me.

I shook my head. "That's not the point. I mean, what if I'm bringing my parents home and we walk in to that?"

"I'm not stupid, Hermione. I know when it's time for manners, alright. So stop pestering me like you're my mother. It's really not putting you in a good light in my mind..."

I threw up my hands. "Fine. Do whatever you bloody well want. I'm going back to bed." I spun on my heel and marched back into the bedroom. I flung myself into bed and pulled the sheets over my head.

Minutes later, I heard him come in and the sheet was pulled back from my head.Oliver's chagrined face came into view as he crouched beside the bed. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't realize that moving in together would cause so many problems. I guess we both have to make adjustments to our lifestyles, me more so than you..." He chuckled. "...but I just want you to know I'm going to try, alright?"

I nodded. "Alright," I whispered back.

"Good, now I'll just go finish off the carton then come back to bed." He stood up and turned to leave.

"Oliver!"


	15. Chapter 15

I slipped my key in the lock and pushed open the door into the empty flat. It was all dressed up with Christmas cheer but I didn't feel very Christmassy... Oliver was still away and didn't know when he was coming back, I was all alone in the flat, and it was Christmas Eve. The tree looked fantastic, its lights blazing cheerily, loads of packages underneath.

I put the kettle on for tea and went to drop my stuff off in the bedroom. Packages spilt out of my book bag from some extra Christmas Eve shopping. I picked them up and carried them back into the living room to put under the tree. It glittered softly, sending me back to the years when I was young and I could barely contain my excitement and bounce up and down in my bed from six to seven o'clock in the morning because I wasn't allowed to get up until then. It was funny because when I was young, I couldn't wait and as the years went by I would be sleeping later and later. By my second year, I wanted to wait and savour the day. Christmas was the best time of the year really. You could feel the love and most people were so happy and so cheery. You just had to avoid the shopping malls at that time. Now, I didn't care if I opened one package. Just having Oliver and being able to nestle in bed with him Christmas morning would be enough for me.

The kettle whistled and I made myself tea, taking it to the sofa and curling up to look out the window. The flat was cozy but felt quite empty without Oliver. Crookshanks jumped up into my lap and curled himself into a ball, purring. I had been impressed with the way that he and Oliver had gotten along so well from the start. He had hated Harry and Ron from first meeting but when we'd moved in, he wound his way around Oliver's ankles and some mornings I'd wake to find the two of them at the table, reading the paper together and sharing a plate of sausages and eggs. I closed my eyes. Maybe I should just go to bed now and I wouldn't have to worry about my mind going into overdrive with missing Oliver. It was funny how attached I had become. I mean, when we were together, I didn't think about it one bit. He was just in my life. But now that he was gone and I didn't know exactly when he'd be back, I was feeling it.

I finished my tea then addressed the fur ball in my lap, "Alright you, time to get off..." I nudged Crookshanks. "I'm going to bed."

He raised his head and shot me a grumpy look.

"I don't care, Crookshanks. I'm getting up in a few seconds and if you're still there, you won't be any happier, I promise."

With a barely audible growl, he got up slowly and stretched slowly, for good measure, then moved further down the couch and went back to sleep, curling so all I could see was his back.

"G'night..." I said, sticking my tongue out at him. I got ready for bed lazily, taking my time in everything before finally shutting out the light and pulling the covers over my head.

¤¤¤

Oliver opened the door as quietly as he could and entered the flat. It was two o'clock in the morning and he was dead tired. He'd taken two trains, a bus and a taxi to get home in time for Christmas. But it was worth it. Just to see Hermione's face tomorrow morning would be worth flying to the moon and back. He snuck to the tree and dispersed his parcels, careful not to make a sound, then leaving all of his things in the living room; he snuck softly to the bedroom, Crookshanks almost tripping him on his way. "Hullo, old boy," he said softly, then opened the door and stood for a moment to watch her sleep. She was curled up on her side of the bed, her hair spread out across the pillow. Her hand was curled up under her chin and she looked so young, so innocent. He padded across the floor, stripping down to his underwear and slid into bed, careful not to wake her. Curling himself around her, he pulled her into his chest, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead and closed his eyes to sleep. The last thing he felt was Crookshanks' weight dropping down on the bed beside his feet.

¤¤¤

I could feel arms around me. Definitely male arms. Oliver's arms. I was half asleep and squeezed my eyes shut to keep the dream within grasp. I didn't want him to go. I didn't want to wake up alone on Christmas morning. Maybe I could just sleep the entire day away and Christmas could forget me. This dream was quite real – the arms hadn't disappeared from around me. I snuggled back into them and felt movement.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione," I heard Oliver say softly, kissing my shoulder.

"Mmm, Happy Christmas..." I replied.

"D'you want to open your presents before or after breakfast?"

I rolled over. "Well, I..."

He was real...

"Merlin, you're real!" I shrieked.

He grinned. "We really should get you to a doctor, Hermione, if you keep thinking you see me everywhere..."

"I can't believe it! How did you home? When did you get home?"

He hugged me close. "Breakfast first, presents second, questions third." And he got out of bed. "Come on, French toast is waiting to be made."

I followed him out to the kitchen and sat waiting patiently while he bustled around making French toast and whistling Christmas carols.

Crookshanks jumped up into my lap, purring.

It was a wonderful Christmas morning.

¤¤¤

I was just finishing my last piece of French toast when I heard a knock on the door. I looked questioningly up at Oliver and he smiled mischievously at me. I shook my head and went to the door. "Mum, Dad? What are you doing here?"

They stood in the doorway with an armload of presents.

"Oliver called us yesterday and invited us..." Mum said cheerily.

I turned back to him. "Oliver..."

"I wanted you to have your family when we opened gifts."

I raised an eyebrow at him. There was something more but I didn't know what but there was no way of getting it out of him. I sighed. "Alright. Let's go open gifts then..."

My parents followed us into the den, smiling, making me think that there was something more to this and that they were all in on some large scam and I wasn't. I sat down next to the tree, just like I did every Christmas with my family and started to hand out gifts.

"To Dad, love Mum."

"To Mum from Santa."

"To Oliver, love Crookshanks."

"To Mum, love Hermione."

"To Hermione, love Mum and Dad."

And on and on until there were piles of wrapping paper and gifts all around.

I sat back, happy, watching everyone look through their gifts. I'd chosen well this year. I'd made a scarf and mitten set for Oliver in true Gryffindor colours, bought Mum a new tea set because she'd been complaining about hers lately, bought Dad a new telescope and Crookshanks a new basket and some catnip.

"And there's one more," Oliver announced, a smile playing on his lips.

I looked at him mystified. Mum and Dad smiled expectantly at me and I looked back under the tree. "There aren't any more Oliver..."

His eyes flickered up at the tree and I looked up. A small, brightly coloured wrapped package hung from one of the upper branches. I looked back to him and he raised his eyebrows at me. "Well, go get it, Santa..."

I got up and had to go on raised tiptoes to get it. "To Hermione, love Santa..." I slowly unwrapped it and uncovered a small velvet box. My mouth was suddenly dry. I opened it slowly but it was empty. I looked up at him questioningly. "Wha-"

He was kneeled down in front of me. "You have to say yes first, Hermione..." In his outstretched fingers was a simple silver band, speckled with diamonds.

"Oh, Oliver..."

"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

I reached out my left hand to him. "Yes, of course I will," I replied without hesitation.

He slid it on my finger then lifted me up and twirled me around before kissing me soundly.

I laughed with pure joy and kissed him back. It was perfect... everything was perfect. The ring, the proposal, Christmas morning.

We heard a loud sniff and looked over to find my parents huddled together, my mother's handkerchief blotting her eye.

"Sorry, it's just so..." she said, sniffing again. "So beautiful... when Oliver came to us to ask..." She broke down into quiet sniffles.

"You knew about this? Oh, Mum..." I held out an arm to her and she came to hug me.

"Congratulations, Oliver." Dad shook his hand and slapped him on the back.

"It's perfect, just perfect," I said, hugging Mum.

She smiled. "Well, we'll leave you two to it then... We have to go over and visit your father's parents..."

"Okay. Bye Mum, bye Dad... thanks for coming. It was just spectacular... thanks for the gifts..." I hugged them both and then they were gone, leaving Oliver and I alone in the apartment.

He grinned at me. "How's that for our first Christmas in the flat?"

I ran and jumped into his arms. "Oh Oliver, fantastic! Just fantastic! I loved it! I love my presents, I love my parents, I love you..." I finished shyly.

"I love you too," he said, twirling me around and kissing me. "Ow!"

Crookshanks growled and pawed his leg, sinking his claws in.

"Oh, we love you too, grouch," Oliver admitted, scooping Crookshanks up into the hollow between us.

Note: Okay, sorry this took so long... I didn't have the internet for sooooo long and then I had writer's block... so yeah, let me know what you think?! Shall I continue or not? Ciao!


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